Recently I was able to briefly do a video chat with my brother, who was visiting with Mom. Ken lightly prides himself in being a "Ludite"---someone who is opposed to increased industrialization or new technology. But he was willing to give it the good ole college try in learning how to Skype or video chat on his cell phone for me and my sister's benefit!
Daniel and I moved to Tennessee almost two years ago. Mom has been living in an assisted living home in California, close to my brother, for the past 18 months. I hadn't visited Mom since March, so I was anxious to visually see her and assess how she is doing with the aid of the modern miracle of cell phone technology!
Though I call her weekly, I never have satisfaction at the conclusion of the call. It is mostly a one-sided conversation (me). A year ago Mom would have been able to give her "go-to" exclaim of "oh wow!" Once in awhile she would muster a nearly complete sentence. These days Mom is only sometimes able to loudly whisper a handful of random words after I pause to give her a chance to respond.
Recently her doctor diagnosed her with Progressive Supranuclear Palsy,* which--among so many other things--affects her speech. The vital, strong-willed woman I've known as my mother has morphed into a silent, shrunken old woman. The disease is rapidly taking over, causing all muscles to stiffen.
And this day, what I saw was my gaunt-faced mother with her eyes mostly closed; her mouth open. I knew she could hear me, but it was frustrating not to have her see me! The caretaker said she was trying to open one eye. Oh well. I usually end my phone calls to Mom by praying for her and then saying "I love you". But this day my brother happened to visit right as one person was giving Mom a manicure and another was feeding her pudding! He needed to end the call as they were nearly ready to take her for her hair appointment!
My perspective: I know that one day--sooner now than later--I will mourn this woman who bore me, but it will not be mourning from a heart of despair, but of glorious hope! I like how the author C.S. Lewis ends his book "The Last Battle". It says well what my heart believes:
“And as He spoke, He no longer looked to them like a lion; but the things that began to happen after that were so great and beautiful that I cannot write them. And for us this is the end of all the stories, and we can most truly say that they all lived happily ever after. But for them it was only the beginning of the real story. All their life in this world and all their adventures in Narnia had only been the cover and the title page: now at last they were beginning Chapter One of the Great Story which no one on earth has read: which goes on for ever: in which every chapter is better than the one before.”
* Progressive supranuclear palsy (PSP) is an uncommon brain disorder that affects movement, control of walking (gait) and balance, speech, swallowing, vision, mood and behavior, and thinking. The disease results from damage to nerve cells in the brain. The disorder’s long name indicates that the disease worsens (progressive) and causes weakness (palsy) by damaging certain parts of the brain above nerve cell clusters called nuclei (supranuclear). These nuclei particularly control eye movements. One of the classic signs of the disease is an inability to aim and move the eyes properly, which individuals may experience as blurring of vision. Estimates vary, but only about three to six in every 100,000 people worldwide, or approximately 20,000 Americans, have PSP—making it much less common than Parkinson's disease (another movement disorder in which an estimated 50,000 Americans are diagnosed each year). Symptoms of PSP begin on average after age 60, but may occur earlier. Men are affected more often than women.